Describe Me As Your Guardian Angel
by Ready Or Notxx
Summary: Roman has a special surprise for Niko and Packie on his computer... Something that has to do with their relationship becoming an internet sensation. Niko/Packie, slashy. M for lots of sexual references and the general nature of GTA.


Bahaha, my first GTA fic… I've become quite obsessed with it recently… Anywho, enjoy. I hope you love it. I'm going to start a more serious one after I finish a few more fics, though, so please take me as a serious writer.

I do not own GTA IV. That'd be freaking epic if I did.

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When Roman throws open the door to their massive apartment in Albany, Niko knows he should be worried. Right, Roman's a nice, happy man, but he's one of _those. _He's one of those people that, no matter how much good they mean, they bring more harm than anything. It's like when Roman gambles—it's for the good of both Niko and Roman.

The door shuts with a farouche slam, and instantly Niko's brain pounds and throbs against his skull. Packie groans next to him, opening his dark eyes as Roman thunders into the room. Last night, Niko and Packie had gone out drinking, trying to relieve some of the stress from dealing with the usual klatsch of the McRearys. Needless to say, they drank a little more than intended, and now they're suffering in the consequences.

Packie buries his face in the couch pillow while Niko sits up in one of the expensive chairs and glares at Roman. However, happy-go-lucky Roman just stands in the doorway to their apartment, a big smile on his face and his laptop tucked under his arm. "What, Cousin?" Niko mumbles, rubbing his temples as Roman more or less pushes Packie off of the couch and plops down with a large thud.

Roman opens the laptop and glances back and forth between the grumbling Niko and the cursing Packie, a huge grin on his face. "You two will never ever believe what Mallorie and I found today at work," he muses, and Niko wants to roll his eyes back into his head.

"If it's another fucking date like Michelle or French Tom, I'm going to get Packie to kick your ass this time," Niko mutters, shaking his head. "I told you, Cousin, stop setting me up. I can find love without your help, you know."

While Roman laughs, Packie pulls himself onto another one of the expensive chairs and sighs. "This better be fucking good, Roman, because I've barely slept all fuckin' night," he hisses, pressing his face into the armrest. Niko can't help but smirk at the Irish mobster. Seeing him so vulnerable like this is rather rare.

"Relax, this is good," Roman confirms quickly, gesturing for Niko and Packie to join him on the couch. After exchanging uneasy glances, both Niko and Packie make their way to the couch and sit on each side of Roman. "You'll love this. So Dimitri—"

"Why would we be interested in what Dimitri does?" Niko cuts Roman off. "We hate the bastard, remember? I mean… He did burn down your cab stand and our old apartment. And sold us down the river after I killed Faustin."

"He sounds like a huge dick," Packie agrees, nodding as Roman loads up the internet on his laptop. Packie rests his elbows on his knees, propping his throbbing head up on them.

"Trust me, you _will _love this," Roman says again, attempting to inveigle the two men into what he's searching for on the computer. He types in the search engine:

_dimitri rascalov's blog_

"He has a blog?" Niko questions, raising an eyebrow and exchanging another confused look with Packie. "With a ton of people on his ass, Dimitri still has a blog? What does he write about? Stabbing the Serbians in the back?"

"Or shitting on puppies," Packie mutters, rubbing rheumy eyes. He blinks as Roman clicks on the link to Dimitri's blog and scrolls down the page. "Whoa. Look how many fucking followers he has."

"Oh, yes, he's been popular on the web for a while now," states Roman light-heartedly. The looks of sin and poison he's given make Roman stop scrolling. "Huh? What?"

"You FOLLOW him?" Packie shouts, skeptical at the sudden revelation. "You follow your archenemy?"

"And you didn't tell me?" Niko snaps with a look that instantly tells Roman his laptop might be in danger. "So you don't look at porn anymore, you look at DIMITRI'S BLOG? Cousin, what the fuck is wrong with your brain?"

"Wait—look, I found it!" yells Roman, his finger pointing at the screen in a burst of success. Niko and Packie both swing their heads to look at the screen. The layout consists of text aligned to the right of a few pictures, but the text isn't what gets a reaction out of the two men. What springs the reaction are the photos that are posted next to the long paragraphs.

Pictures of Niko and Packie… Making out… Among other activities.

Other dirty activities. One with Packie on his knees, and—

"WHAT!" Packie screams, leaning too far forward and making an Oscar-worthy fall to the floor. Roman begins to cackle, while Niko just presses his hands to the side of his head. How… How would Dimitri even get those pictures? There must be some sort of secret voyeurs he sends everywhere, hiding in dumpsters, behind poles… Whatever the case, they're ONLINE now, and the internet…

_The internet is forever._

Niko shudders at that horrid thought while Packie scrambles back onto the couch, the look of "I'm-going-to-rip-your-fucking-face-off" tangible in his eyes. "That… That never happened!" Niko sputters, trying to ignore that blood that boils beneath his face. "I… I mean…"

"LOOK!" Packie screeches, the tip of his index finger rubbing against the laptop screen. "This picture… In it, we're wearing the same fucking clothes we wore last night!" Niko leans his face further to the screen, then growls. Right. The same dark jacket Niko wore and the white shirt Packie was clothed in. They WERE wearing those last night. And since they hadn't bothered to change after entering Niko's apartment and crashing on the couches…

That's what they're wearing right now too.

"Ooh, there's a video," Roman points out, scrolling down the page further. Packie proceeds to slam his palm against the computer, sending it sailing out of Roman's hands and onto the carpet. Roman swings his head to glare at the Irish cocaine addict. "What the fuck did you do that for? Cousin, control your boyfriend."

"WHAT!" Packie's voice rises in a ridiculously feminine way.

"We were drunk!" Niko snaps, exasperation washing over him. "Neither of us had any recollection of what happened when we got home! And you can't hold this over us! We were DRUNK!" Niko's octaves also increase as he repeats himself.

Roman sighs and sets his poor computer on the coffee table. "Whatever you say, Cousin," he muses, winking at the furious Niko. Writhing in anger, Packie squeals something incoherent in reply. "At any rate, I've gotta go pick up Mallorie. I'm taking her to dinner. You know, it could be a double date—"

"GO!" hollers Niko, swinging his fists like a child who didn't get their way. Roman giggles as he absconds to the door, escaping a near-death situation with his cousin and his Irish friend. Beginning to rub his temples once more, Niko gets up and locks the door. That'll show the little pest that if you fuck with Niko Bellic, you get locked out of your apartment. Packie stares up at him, brown eyes blistering with ember.

"You bastard. You couldn't wait until we got home, and now look where we are."

Niko sighs and presses his back against the wall. "I thought it would be a little… Inconvenient."

Yeah.

That's the word.

"Oh, fuck." Packie presses both palms against his eyes. "And now you've made us a fucking internet sensation. Nice job."

Niko glares at him, crossing his arms. "Well, if you didn't have such an urge to suck my—"

"Okay, okay!" Packie waves his hand in the "enough-already" gesture. "We're both fucking guilty here. What do we do? Obviously, this isn't going to stop. We're going to keep going at it like a couple of dogs, and obviously we are gonna have to do the gay thing and tell everybody and sit around and talk about our 'feelings.'" At the word feelings, Packie imitates a distraught, sobbing woman, his hands over his face.

"Well, Dimitri's going to torture us one way or the other," responds the Serbian male, shrugging. "If there's no way to solve this, why don't we just put this out in public? I mean, we're not gay—"

"I KNOW that—"

"We're not gay, but we do like each other. A lot."

Packie's cheeks flush red. "Maybe we are gay. Maybe we just didn't know it."

Quiescence.

The two men continue to stares at each other. They've never really been ones for talking about their feelings or even showing them, but Niko lumbers over to Packie slowly and kisses the Irish male on the forehead. "Well, it was a pretty homo thing for you to describe me as your guardian angel," he murmurs afterwards.

Packie sighs. "You want me to chop off your penis while you're asleep? A lot of people say they'll do it, and they don't, but I will. Just ask Gerry." Niko laughs and shakes his head as he settles by Packie and puts and arm around his shoulder.

"Well, why don't we embrace this whole gay thing?" Niko mutters. "I mean, if heteros can do it, why can't we?"

"Because it's not 'acceptable.'" Packie makes the little quotation marks with his hands next to his ears.

"I say we should make it acceptable." Niko smirks.

"Whatever you say, man. I know you're gonna fucking take down Dimitri one of these days, anyhow. Let him writhe in his joy while he has some left."

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Short. Pointless. I know. XD But it was fun to write. Anyhow, please review!


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